She's Still There
by OnceUponACrimeScene
Summary: Shelagh decided to go back to Poplar, she was finally recovering from TB but not necessarily from hurt in her heart. Back in the convent and doing her best to hide from the man she wanted to see the most, what would happen when he turns up unannounced?
1. Chapter 1

***A/N: This is my first CTM fanfic. Be kind and review!***

Chapter 1

"Really, are you sure?"

"Yes, I saw her with my own eyes. She walked right in, normal clothes and everything."

"She must be feeling better, but where is her habit?"

"Well," said Mrs Williams, the nosiest woman in all of Poplar, "I heard she left the order."

"Why would she do that? She always seemed so steady in her faith." Mrs Honey, a young first-time mum had always looked up to Sister Bernadette.

"Come on, Molly, I know your young but why do you think? She disappears for months on end then returns without her habit. I wouldn't be surprised if the order kicked her out, if you know what I mean?"

"No, surely not," Molly said, disbelievingly. "Sister Bernadette wouldn't do something like that."

"You're right," Mrs Mathers, the other side of the room piped up. "I saw her just before she left, she was so sick and pale."

"So, some women get ill, especially with their first," Mrs Williams but in.

"And," Mrs Mathers continued, ignoring her snide comment, "She was very thin. TB. I heard the nurses talking about it. I don't know why she gave up her habit, but I know it's not for the reason you think." Mrs Williams, snorted, clearly not believing her, or just wilfully not.

Patrick Turner stood by the door, he didn't usually listen to the gossip the mothers in the maternity home share, he wasn't ever interested. However, this particular piece of gossip was holding his attention like nothing did.

She was back, he couldn't believe it. He wanted nothing more than to storm in that room, unsure if he wanted to interrogate the women for more information or yell at them for the aspersions they were casting on the poor young woman who had recently filled his every waking (and sleeping) moment. It took all his willpower to stop himself from dropping everything, storming over to Nonnatus House and sweeping her in his arms. He knew that would not go down well, especially with the Sisters.

She was back. Why didn't she tell him? Did she not receive his letters? Or did she receive them and not feel the same? Questions swirled around his brain, none were accompanied with an answer and he knew the only person who could answer them was currently hiding away surrounded by a bunch of nuns.

* * *

Sister Julienne stood in the doorway of Sister Bernadette's, now Shelagh, room. Her eyes were trained on the young woman lying in the bed. It was so good to have her home, there was a time when she worried she would ever see her again, especially after their talk at the sanatorium. When Shelagh told her, she would go to _Chichester_ , Sister Julienne worried that she would never come back, especially when she decided to renounce her vows. Now, she was home, sleeping soundly in her bed. The TB had taken the glow from her cheeks and she was a lot thinner than her usual petite frame. Sister Monica Joan, she knew, would rectify that.

Sister Julienne still had question, questions on her former Sister could answer, yet a suspicion had been growing in the back of her mind since Shelagh had been admitted to St. Anne's. Nothing had been confirmed to her, but the look on Dr Turners face had been hard to ignore while she had been away, Sister Julienne originally thought it was because he missed her like all the others. However, as the weeks passed she could see it was more than that. She had a suspicion the doctor missed the little nun just as much as she did. When she saw the letters, she knew the suspicion wasn't just that of an overprotective mother. For, in all intents and purposes, she was Shelagh's mother. She would never have read the letters but seeing them and seeing the return address had settled something in Sister Julienne's mind.

The only questions that remained were, how does he really feel, and does Shelagh feel the same? If her response to Sister Julienne's suggestion Dr Turner look in on her every few weeks or so, to see how she was recovering, was any indication; the doctor was defiantly one of the reason Sister Bernadette had left them and Shelagh had returned. She also had a feeling it was one of the reason why she had been so withdrawn the last few months before her illness.

Sister Julienne shook her head, there was no point trying to work it out now, for now her daughter had returned and only God knew where she would go next. Yet, there was a pain in her chest at the thought of the local GP waltzing in and stealing this precious girl away. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, she thought. Dr Turner was a fine man, honourable, caring and gentle. She couldn't want anything more for her Shelagh, she would need to find out more before she had any more of those thoughts. Maybe she could arrange for an accidental meeting of the two of them, after all it wouldn't be long until her finds out she's here. The gossip in Poplar was fast and Sister Julienne was certain Dr Turner would know before the weeks out.

* * *

Patrick was sitting in his office, his eyes unfocused on the piece of paper before him. It had been 2 days since he overheard the conversation in the maternity ward and he still didn't know what to do. He was almost wishing for an epidemic, or for something to happened, just so he had an excuse to go over there.

He couldn't just pop in, people would wonder why. The only time her every went to the nun's and nurses home was when he needed to discuss something work related, he couldn't change that now without drawing suspicion. Patrick was still trying to formulate a plan when there was a knock on the door.

"Enter." Nurse Franklin walked in her blond hair bobbing around her head.

"Sorry to bother you, Doctor."

"That's ok, Nurse Franklin, how can I help?"

"Actually, I have a message from Sister Julienne." Patrick sat up a little straighter, focusing all his attention on the blond nurse before him. "She has said that, if you needed too, you can use our autoclave when you finish here. She wasn't sure if your one had been fixed yet." He didn't need to use it, the one at the surgery had been fixed for a few days now, yet he couldn't pass up the opportunity of a legitimate excuse to go to Nonnatus House.

"Thank you, Nurse Franklin. I think I might take her up on that. I'll pop over this evening after my rounds."

"Splendid, I'll let her know." There was something telling in the smile she shot the doctor, maybe he wasn't as casual as he thought when he replied.

It took all of Patrick's concentration to get through the rest of the day. The thought of seeing her for the first time since he diagnosed her constantly crept into his mind, distracting him form the patients he was attending. At the end of the day, he nearly ran to his car desperate to get to Nonnatus before she went to bed. He knew she would still be quite weak and was terrified if he was any later he would miss her.

Patrick slammed the door shut and was about to start the engine when movement caught his eye. Timothy was sat in the passenger seat, grinning at him.

"What are you doing here?" He asked. Timothy was supposed to be at Jack Smith's for the evening.

"Jack isn't feeling well, Mrs Smith didn't want me to catch anything, so she dropped me off here," he replied, shrugging off any other comment Patrick might have made. "Are we going home?"

"No," Patrick replied slowly, "I need to go to Nonnatus for a bit. Would you like me to drop you home first?" Part of him wished he would say no, it would mean getting there a lot quicker. Yet Patrick knew if Timothy was with him it would be harder to see Sister Bernadette alone.

"I'll come, the nun's always have cake," the young boy replied, smiling at the thought. Patrick drove, probably faster than he would normally, if Timothy noticed, he didn't say anything. Before her knew it, they were parked in front of Nonnatus House. He wasn't sure if he was ready for this, yet he knew he would regret it if he didn't at least try. Sister Julienne answered the door and smiled at him. Was it his imagination, or was that smile a little forced?

"Good evening, Doctor. And Timothy," she added as she caught sight of the boy.

"Good evening, Sister. Nurse Franklin said that I would be able to use your autoclave this evening. My instruments need washing, and Timothy couldn't pass up the opportunity of cake."

"Of course, there might be some cake left in the kitchen Timothy. Do you know the way?"

"Yes," Timothy piped and ran to the direction of the kitchen. Sister Julienne stood back to allow Patrick to enter and shut the door behind him.

"If you want to go on through Doctor, I'm sure someone will be there who can help you." Sister Julienne caught his eye before he moved on, seemingly searching for something. Patrick felt like a young boy being questioned by his sweetheart's mother. Whatever she was looking for, she must have found it as, with a hand to his arm, she walked away without another word.

Patrick's heartbeat increased, bouncing against his chest as he stepped toward the clinical room. When he reached the door, he couldn't move. Standing before him, dressed in a simple blue dress coming just below her knees and light green cardigan was Sister Bernadette. He knew it was her, even without her face turned to him, no one else in Nonnatus had the elegance she had. Even when doing an everyday chore like cleaning medical instruments.

Her movements stilled, and he knew she was aware of his presence. Still he didn't say anything, he didn't know if his voice would even work at that moment. Slowly, she turned, eyes cast down as if she was putting of meeting his. When they did his breath left him in a rush. If he thought her beautiful in her habit, it was nothing compare to what he thought of her without it. There was no other way to say it; Sister Bernadette was drop dead gorgeous.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! Please keep them coming. Onto the next chapter.**

Chapter 2

 _Shelagh, dear, would you mind helping clean the clinical room. There are a few supplies in there that hadn't been cleaned yet and it needs to be done before the night shift._

Shelagh had jumped at the chance, since coming back from the sanatorium the nun's and nurses hadn't let her do anything. She knew it was because they loved her and didn't want her to overdo it, but it was starting to annoy her. She was never one to sit idly and do nothing, and this was torture. Whenever she wasn't doing anything, which was almost all the time now, she was thinking about him. When she received his letters, she was over the moon, it was the final piece put in place. The thing that pushed her to make her decision. Yet she hadn't replied yet, hadn't even told him she was back in Poplar.

She said it was because she didn't want to pull him into her scandal. She wasn't naïve, she knew that people were talking about her and she couldn't bare for Doctor Turner to be part of that. He had gone through enough. But, even though that was all true, if she was being honest with herself, it wasn't the reason at all. In all honesty, it was because she was scared. Being a nun for 10 years had taken most of her knowledge of relationships between men and women. She knew the basics, anyone who worked half their life as a midwife would, but an actual relationship, she had no idea how to manage.

What if he didn't mean it like she thought he did? What if he got bored of her? These questions, and many like them roamed her mind. The only way she could push them away was to keep busy. She couldn't think of him just yet, she wasn't ready.

Shelagh was almost finished when she heard footsteps behind her, a faint sent filled the air and her hands stilled. She would know that smell anywhere. Cigarettes mixed with a bit of sweat and aftershave. He didn't say anything and neither did she, suddenly she was very conscious of her bare legs. Yes, she was wearing stockings, but they weren't the black ones she was used too, they were a pair of nylon ones she borrowed from Trixie.

How long they stood in silence, she wasn't sure, but she knew she would have to face him. Turning slowly, she kept her eyes down, not yet ready to see his face and possibly the rejection she had imagined. When she was finally facing him, she lifted her eyes.

* * *

The pair stood there, their eyes greedily taking every aspect of the person before them. It had been so long since they had last seen each other that neither knew what to say.

"Sister Bernadette," Patrick was the first to break the silence, "You're back?"

"Yes," was her simple reply. Patrick's eyes studied her, trying to work out what was going on behind that face.

"How are you feeling?" It was a lame question, he knew, but it was the only thing he could think of and she looked like she was about to run from the room and he wouldn't allow that.

"Much better, a little bored. They won't let me do much." She gave him a shy smile that melted his heart.

Patrick chuckled a little and said; "I can imagen, but they're only doing it because they care. We don't want you getting sick again. I wrote to you," Patrick added, breaking the silence that settled in them.

"Yes," she replied softly.

"I don't know if I said too much, or not enough," Patrick voice was laced with worry, he wouldn't have been able to disguise it if he wanted to. Sister Bernadette didn't reply straight away, and he was beginning to regret his decision to come here. She was obviously trying to find a way to let him down.

"You said," she started after a moment, "what was necessary." Necessary? What was necessary? Does this mean… Patrick wouldn't let his thoughts even go there, yet the look on her face was enough to confirm it, even if her words couldn't. He couldn't take the distance anymore and stepped towards her, but before he could say anything she moved back and almost shouted; "How's Timothy?"

Patrick blinked, unsure what had just happened. It was then he saw it, clear as day, written all over her face. She was scared. She tried to hide it, but Patrick Turner had memorised her every expression, he would play them repeatedly in his head. This particular expression wasn't common on the young nun, well not nun any more, but see it he could. Patrick decided then and then not to push her, they had time. Even if it took the rest of his life, he would show her that he was worthy, that there was nothing to fear from him.

"He's well, he here actually. Couldn't resist the idea of Mrs B's cake."

"I should go and see him, it's been such a long time," she said, making a hasty exit. Patrick grabbed her, gently by the elbow.

"Sister Bernadette," he started, there was no way her could let her go just then. He didn't know when they would next be able to speak.

"Forgive me," she interrupted, "but I don't answer to that name any more." That said, she slipped her arm form his grasp and left.

* * *

Patrick followed the sound of his son's voice, he was talking animatedly to not-Sister-Bernadette. The young blonde was sat next to him, she looked pale and tired to the doctor. He hoped it was because she had a long day, and not because on the exchange they had in the clinical room.

"Did you find out what happened to my butterfly?" Timothy asked.

"Well, I gave it to the doctors, but they weren't able to tell my anything your father hadn't already told you." Not-Sister-Bernadette replied, softly.

"That's a shame, maybe we could find out?" Timothy asked, his voice so full of hope and it warmed Patrick's heart to know that his son loved this woman as much as he did.

He loved her!

It was the first time he had ever admitted it to himself, he didn't even know her name and yet he loved her with every fibre of his being. Patrick felt like something had been lifted of his shoulders with his declaration, yes it wasn't out load and the person her most wanted to hear it hadn't. But fact that he was able to admit it to himself and set him free. Patrick's eyes trained on the two people before, the two people who were the most precious to him and his heart over flowed.

Not-Sister-Bernadette sifted in her seat, he could see her start to flag and was about to say something when a voice from behind him spoke.

"Shelagh, you should probably head up to bed. It's been a long day and I can see you're exhausted," Sister Evangeline spoke, Patrick looked round to see who she was speaking to when Not-Sister-Bernadette spoke.

"I'm fine, Sister."

"No, you're not," the stern nun spoke back, walking past Patrick pointing her finger at the young woman before her. "I told Sister Julienne that cleaning the supplies would be too much and look at you, your paler than you were this afternoon and look considerably tiered."

She was taking to Not-Sister-Bernadette, Shelagh. Her name was Shelagh. It was beautiful, it fit her so well Patrick wondered why he didn't guess it. Shelagh. He wanted so much to try it on his tongue but didn't dare with her so close.

"I'm sure Timothy would be more than happy to continue your conversation tomorrow?" Sister Evangelina said, directing her comment to Timothy.

"Of course," the boy replied, "if you're tired Sister Berna- I mean nurse, um"

"Shelagh," Shelagh supplied when it was clear Timothy didn't know what to call his old friend.

"Shelagh? That's a pretty name."

"Thank you." Shelagh smiled warmly at him.

"Come on, Tim," Patrick stepped in, "let's give nurse," he paused then, hoping someone would supply her surname.

"Mannion." Sister Evangelina obliged.

"Nurse Mannion some time to rest." He so desperately wanted to call her Shelagh, to see how it sounded from his mouth, to show her just how intimate he wanted them to be. But he didn't dare in front of Sister Evangelina, the nun was already giving him a more than stern look.

"Ok, bye Shelagh."

"Goodbye Timothy." Shelagh pulled him into her arms and kissed him gently on the top of his head. Timothy's arms clung around her waist, as if he never wanted to let go. Patrick and Shelagh's eyes met over his head. She gave him a soft smile, which he returned. Sharing everything they wish they couldn't aloud in that small gesture. It had been their way of communicating while she was a nun, and now it seems after. Not that Patrick minded, he would spend all day looking into those eyes if he could.

The moment was ended when Sister Evangelina ushered both Turner boys out. When they opened the door, Timothy ran for the car. Before Patrick could follow him, however, he found himself blocked by Sister Evangelina.

"A word before you go, Doctor," he voice was brisk, as usual, and Patrick prepared himself for whatever lecture she was going to give him. "I don't know what you're planning for Shelagh, but I'm not blind. I saw the way you two looked at each other, even before she renounced her vows. I know love when I see it." Whatever Patrick thought she would say, it was not this. "I'm not going to get in your way, Doctor Turner, I know you're a good man. But I will say this, that girl is as precious to us as if she were our own child. We have watched her grown into the confident and capable young woman she is and if you were to do anything to hurt her, or hurt her reputation, any more than it already has been, you will have to answer to me." Patrick was stunned, he wasn't sure what he expected from Sister Evangelina, but this, acceptance was not it.

"I won't do anything to hurt her, Sister. You have my word."

"Much good your word is when I've already seen how much pain she is in after just one conversation with you." Patrick opened his mouth to defend himself, but no words would come out. "I didn't mean that the way it came out, all I'm saying is be careful, be patient. So much has happened in the last few weeks, I'm not sure if she can take any more right now. Give it time, Doctor, I assure you, she'll be worth the wait." And with that last word, the Sister turned her back on him and walked away, leaving Patrick alone to ponder her words.

"Dad," Timothy's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "Are you coming?"

"Coming son." The turners left, oblivious to the figure watching them from the window.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Sister Julienne watched the Turners leave, tears welling up. She knew it wouldn't be long before she would be losing one of the most precious people in her life. She heard a knock on the door to her office, wiping her eyes clear, she called to whoever it was to enter.

Sister Evangelina walked in, she had a look on her face that Sister Julienne knew oh so well.

"Sister, you know I rarely question your judgment, but I must ask; why did you do that?" Sister Evangelina stood the other side of the desk, pinning Sister Julienne down with her gaze. The sister lowered her gaze and sat, heavily, on her chair.

"She needed to see him, before she goes back to work," Sister Julienne replied through her hands. She lifted her head, her soft voice betraying the emotions within her. "It was better their first meeting be here, in private, rather than in the maternity home, of the home of one of our patients where there would be eyes on them."

"How long have you known?" Sister Evangelina asked, taking the seat opposite.

"I don't know. I had a few suspicions when she was diagnosed, then more when she went to St. Ann's, but I must admit I didn't pay much attention before then. She wanted to speak to me and we started a conversation, but so much happened at once, we didn't have the chance to finish it. If only I would have listened, maybe I could have helped her sooner. I can't help but feeling it's my fault she became ill."

"Don't say that," Sister Evangelina admonished, "It was no one's fault, only He knows why she got ill."

"It seems her illness was what put this all in motion. If I had listened before, maybe it wouldn't have been needed, maybe," Sister Julienne couldn't continue, her heart was breaking. Breaking for the pain her daughter was in, for the pain she had been though, and for the pain she herself would go through when Shelagh finally left them for the life she was supposed to have.

"Come now," Sister Evangelina said, softly. She made her way around the desk and put her arms around her superior. Sister Julienne oversaw Nonnatus, she ran it well and Sister Evangelina never felt any envy that a younger woman was put in charge over her. So many times, she had been a comfort to her, guided her, yet now was the time for the older woman to be the comforter, to be her guide.

"Even if you had spoken about it before, she still would have gotten ill. You couldn't stop that no more than I could. It's all part of his plan, you know how stubborn the pair are. Even if you had spoken to her, it probably would have still taken the illness for them to get their act together. We won't lose her, Sister. She will always be our sister, habit or no habit, and we will always love and care for her." Sister Julienne smiled at her words and pulled away from her sister and friend. She wiped her eyes with the handkerchief Sister Evangelina held out for her.

"Everyone knows their daughter must spread their wings at some point." Sister Julienne laughed at her sister's words.

"We're not losing her just yet," Sister Julienne reminded her.

"I know. Come on, it's almost time for Compline." The sisters left, both praying for the strength to deal with what will come next.

* * *

Shelagh went down to breakfast in the morning, Trixie and Cynthia were already there, cooing over Freddie as they tried to get him to eat his breakfast.

"We thought we'd give Chummy and Peter a bit of a break," Trixie said, "Poor things are absolutely exhausted." Shelagh smiled at the little boy, an ache filling her. She had always loved children, but until now she had never really thought of have any of her own, it wasn't a possibility in the religious life. But now, maybe it could happen. Unbidden the faces of Doctor Turner and Timothy came into her head, she pushed them away, least she starts crying again.

Shelagh had spent most of her night with her face pushed into her pillow, the look on Doctor Turners face was still burned into her brain. He was so lovely, gentle, kind, he wasn't perfect, but neither was she. If she allowed herself to truly think about it, she knew they could make each other very happy, but she was afraid.

After breakfast, she accompanied the nurses to the clinical room, where Sister Evangelina would give out the rounds for the day. She had already spoken to Sister Julienne and Shelagh knew she would start working again today. She was so excited, she hadn't seen any of her patients since she was in the sanatorium and was looking forward to getting back to work, despite the gossip she was sure she would hear.

"Last of all," Sister Evangelina's voice broke through her thoughts, "Nurse Mannion," the occupants of the room turned and beamed at Shelagh, she smiled shyly, blushing at the attention they were giving her. "Sister Julienne has said that you would be going back on the rota today, you'll be over at the maternity home for the next week or so, just to ease you back into the work."

"Yes, Sister," Shelagh said softly. The maternity home. She wasn't sure how she felt about that, she would never argue with the Sister, she was only doing her job after all, but Shelagh wasn't sure she was ready to spend her whole day in a building with Doctor Turner.

The nurses gathered their kits and made their way to the bicycles, Jenny and Cynthia wished her well and went off to their first patient. Shelagh followed Trixie to the maternity home, occasionally having to stop to catch her breath. By the time they had arrived the pair were giggling like fools.

"10 years of nursing, that's the first time I've never been able to cycle the whole way before," Shelagh laughed, it was ironic as she was normally the fastest on the bike, even with her habit.

"Well, I'm not complaining," Trixie teased, "I can't wait to see the girls face when I tell them I beat you to the maternity home!" The pair were still giggling when they walked through the door, Trixie took their coats and hung them on the hooks and Shelagh walked to the receptionist desk to look at the booking in log.

"Looks like we might be busy today," she commented.

"Ah, Nurse Franklin," a masculine voice said from behind her, a voice she would know anywhere. "I'm not sure if Sister Julienne mentioned it to you, but we've had 3 mothers due quiet soon decide to give birth here. They'll be coming in today and staying until baby is born. We need a few more nurses to work some night shifts, Sister Julienne said you might be available for that?"

"Yes, Doctor. She's already spoken to me about it. It's a good thing we've got more hands today."

"More hands- "Doctor Turner's voice trailed off and Shelagh could feel his eyes on her, she turned to face him and gave him a little smile. The smile that appeared on the Doctors face was enough to make her blush, she wished Trixie would look away. "Nurse Mannion, you're back at work."

Suddenly, his delight turned to concern, and he frowned a little in her direction. "Are you sure you're well enough?"

"She is, Doctor. Besides, this is the reason Sister Julienne wanted her to start here. She knew you'd keep an eye on her," Trixie gave the pair a sly little smile and walked away.

Shelagh just stood there, willing her heart to calm down. She smoothed the front of her uniform and look anywhere but the doctor.

Patrick watched her, torn between happiness at the idea of having her near for a whole day and worry for her health. He didn't think he could handle losing her. Normally he'd spend most of his time in his office, seeing patients or catching up on paper work, but maybe today he might find the maternity floor a lot more interesting.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

It was the end of the day, three weeks after Shelagh had come back to work and he could hear her moving around outside the office, preparing to close the surgery down. She had been there the entire time, Sister Julienne not yet comfortable with putting her on rounds yet, and the office hadn't run so smoothly.

Patrick could still remember the look on her face when she started working, it was etched into his brain. Joy radiated from her like a fire burning in the night. It was easy to see how much she loved her work and how much she cared about her patients, and if their response was anything to go by, how much they cared about her.

Every patient that came through had claimed at least 10 minutes of her time, questioning her on her health and telling her how much they missed her. It warmed his heart that they accepted her back without question, he had heard some of the gossip floating around and he had to admit he was a little worried.

His mind floated back to earlier that day, when she called him to the maternity suite. Lucy Jenkins was having difficulty and she needed his assistance for the birth. Baby was very big and wasn't in any rush to leave and the poor mother was in agony. They worked closely, Shelagh's soft Scottish accent soothed Lucy and him. He felt like he could walk to the moon if he could have that voice pushing him on. When baby was born, the look of complete adoration on her face could have melted the most stubborn of hearts. He had said it once before and meant it; she was a natural with children.

Unbidden, an image of Shelagh and Timothy curled up on his sofa, reading a book or going over homework, flashed through his mind. No one would ever replace Catherine, she was unique, and he hadn't met another soul like her. Yet if his son couldn't have her, he couldn't think of any one he would want more than Shelagh to be her second. Like Catherine, she was unique. There was such a mixture within her; one moment she was like a child, young and innocent and the next she was all woman, calm, confident and bold. Shelagh had a way with people that no one, not even Catherine, had, people couldn't help but trust her.

He heard the soft voices of Nurse Franklin and Shelagh from behind the door, breaking his thoughts from the two women he loved. He couldn't quite make out what they were saying, so, on soft feet, he made his way to the door when he heard his name. He was never normally one to eavesdrop, but he couldn't help himself where this woman was concerned.

"I can't Trixie," Shelagh was saying.

"Come on, Shelagh. You're exhausted, there is no way you can ride your bike back, especially not alone. Sister Julienne will never forgive me if something were to happen to you."

"He won't have time, he has to get back to Timothy."

"Have you already asked him?" Nurse Franklin asked, Patrick could hear the doubt in her voice.

"No," Shelagh replied softly.

"Right, ask him, if he can't take you home, then I'll call Jenny and see if she can ride with you."

"You can't, Trixie. Jenny will already be back now, I can't ask her to go out of her way."

"I'm not going to let you ride home alone, Shelagh."

"I'll be fine." Patrick couldn't take any more of this, there was no way he would let her ride back alone, even if she hadn't been ill. Patrick opened the door to his office and both women stopped talking.

"Everything alright ladies?" He asked.

"Yes, Doctor Turner, thank you," Shelagh was the one to reply.

"Anything I can do?" He asked, hoping they wouldn't guess he was listening on the other side of the door.

"No," Shelagh started but was cut off by Nurse Franklin.

"Actually, Doctor. We were wondering if you wouldn't mind terribly taking Shelagh home. I think the days work might have been a bit too much and she is a little tired."

"Of course I can," He replied, trying to shrug it off as not a big deal while his insides were dancing. Shelagh opened her mouth, as if to object, but Nurse Franklin pressed her coat in her hands and spoke before she could.

"Wonderful, if you hurry then you might still be in time for tea." With that, the blonde walked away, leaving the two of them alone for the first time since this morning. Suddenly, Patricks mind went blank and he had no idea what to say. He held out his arm to the door, as if to say, 'after you', and followed her to his car.

"You don't have to do this," Shelagh said as he opened the door for her.

"Nonsense, I'm happy too." That was the understatement of the century.

"Honestly, Doctor, I'm ok to ride home, and if I do get tired I will walk for a while."

"Shelagh," Patrick said, bending his head to hers, his voice going lower and more intense. "Get in the car." He watched as a shiver ran over her body and he hope beyond hope that is was from something else and not fear.

Shelagh couldn't take her eyes from his, his voice had made her feel things she had never felt before. It was exciting and scary at the same time, part of her just wanted to pull his head down and kiss him until they were both breathless and the other part wanted to run as fast as her legs would let her.  
His arm was around her, resting on the open door, his head inches from her, it would be so easy. Just a slight tip of her head and their lips would meet. The urge was so strong that, for a moment, Shelagh thought that she might just do it. That was until a cat screeched and ran by them, breaking the moment that they had created.

Patrick dropped his arm and stepped back and they both felt the distance. Shelagh got in the car slowly and kept her eyes down. They made the drive to Nonnatus in silence, both thinking about what almost happened outside the surgery. Patrick was sure she was going to kiss him, if that bloody cat hadn't gotten in the way.

* * *

When they pulled up outside the house, Patrick switched the engine off, but wasn't about to let her go. "Shelagh," he said before she could make a move to leave but she cut him off.

"I must apologise, Doctor," She began.

"For what?"

"The other day, when you came in. I was rude and shouldn't have ran off like I did. I only hope you can forgive me."

"Why did you?" Patrick asked.

"I," Shelagh started, but she had no idea how to carry on. "I don't know."

"You do," Patrick prodded, he wasn't going to let this go, it was too important. Shelagh sighed, eyes trained on the lamp outside, not looking at him.

"There is a lot of gossip going around, I didn't want to pull anyone else into it. It's bad enough that the Sisters and nurses are a part of it, I couldn't ask you and Timothy to be part of it too."

"That's not the reason and you know it," Patrick said, getting frustrated now.

"Oh, really?" She turned back to him now, her eyes flashing. "And how would you know, Doctor? Can you read my mind now?"

"I'm already a part of the gossip, Shelagh. You know that as well as I, you not being honest with me and I wonder if you're even being honest with yourself."

"And how would you know, you don't know what I'm feeling."

"I know you were going to kiss me back there, I know that you wanted it just as much as I do and yet you didn't."

"Well, you didn't kiss me," Shelagh shot back, hoping to deflect it back onto him.

"If I kissed you every time I wanted to, we wouldn't get anything done." The one statement froze the pair of them, Patrick, because he didn't mean to tell her that and Shelagh because she was not expecting it.

"You want to kiss me?" She asked softly, after a long uncomfortable pause.

"All the time," he replied just as soft, "For as long as I live." There, it was out there, there was no way she could misunderstand his feelings for her.

"I thought that," she started.

"Thought what?" Patrick prodded when she didn't carry on.

"I thought that, maybe, you might have changed your mind. I'm not exactly experienced in real life. I was a nun for 10 years after all, and what do I really know about men and women. Other than the things that put me in a job," she added on the end, blushing a little.

"Oh, Shelagh." Patrick cupped her cheek and ran his thumb over her smooth skin, afraid of pushing too far but just needing to hold her.

"I know you so little," Shelagh said, her blue eyes gazing into his brown ones, "but I couldn't be more certain." She held her breath, waiting for his reply.

"I am completely certain." She smiled at him, her eyes light up as he said the words.

"Doctor Turner?"

"Patrick."

"Patrick?" He loved the way his name sounded on her lips.

"Yes?"

"Will you kiss me now?" She didn't have to ask twice, she would never have to ask him again. He would always respond the same way. Lowering his head and brushing her lips with his. It was only gentle and quick, but to Patrick and Shelagh, it felt like a lift time. When he pulled away, she cupped his face and brought it back to hers.

Their second kiss wasn't as gentle, the moment their lips touched again Shelagh let out a small moan which spurred Patrick on. His hand went from her cheek to her hair, pulling her in tighter. Shelagh shifted a little and brought her other hand to his chest, bunching his jumper in her small fist. Patricks other hand made it way to her waist, taking in every curve and feeling. Fire was burning in them both, boiling out like a volcano. Shelagh was certain, nothing had ever felt a good as being help by this man and holding him in return.

Patrick pulled back again and rested his forehead on hers, both were breathing heavily, eyes closed not wanting to spoil the moment they have.

"You should probably go in," Patrick said, with a sigh. Not wanting to let her go. "I don't want to incur the wrath of Sister Evangelina by making you late for your tea." Shelagh giggled at that and Patrick got out the car to open her door. Shelagh took his offered hand and stepped up. She looked deep into his eyes, her own shining with the love she was not yet ready to confess and press a soft kiss to his cheek.

"Thank you for taking me home."

"Any time," Patrick replied, he kissed her hand softly and let it slip from his. He watched her walk up the steps and into the house. Before she shut the door, he saw her give him a quick smile and he raised his hand in farewell.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

On the weeks leading up to Christmas, the Turners could be found at Nonnatus House more are more. Patrick and Shelagh could hear the gossip that was flowing through Poplar, but rather than the vicious gossip than flew when she came back from the sanatorium, it was gossip that made them smile.

"I'm tellin' ya," Shelagh over heard some women the other day. "He's head-over-hills for er'. You should see the look on is' face whenever she is around."

The pair had gotten closer with each passing day, and Timothy, already very much in love with Shelagh, was growing happier by the day. The nurses and nuns at Nonnatus also noticed the almost constant presence of the Doctor and his son, for the nurses it was the cause of great joy and giggling. Barley an evening went by where Shelagh wasn't dragged into their rooms for the nightly briefing of the 'big romance' as Trixie put it.

For the nuns, especially Sister Julienne, it was bitter-sweet. It warmed her heart to see how much care Doctor Turner gave Shelagh; how he would open the door for her, help her across the threshold or just gently take her arm or hand. And whenever Sister Julienne thought about Timothy, her eyes would fill with tear. The little boy absolutely dotes on Shelagh. She would make him a wonderful mother. Yet, she couldn't help but feel a loss. Her little Shelagh, her precious girl would be leaving them, and Sister Julienne didn't know just how she felt about that.

Patrick and Timothy left Nonnatus house later in the evening. They had just had a splendid meal, curtesy of Mrs B, and spent a wonderful evening with Shelagh. He was happier than he had felt in a very long time, yet there was something niggling in the back of his mind. Shelagh had never initiated any further contact since that night where she asked him to kiss her. Yes, he would take her arm or hand, but it wasn't long before she was gently pulling it away.

He couldn't figure out what the problem was, he knew she loved him, even though she hadn't said the words, so it must be something else. Patrick had been raking his brain for days trying to work out what had happened. Had he pushed her too much? Had someone said something to her? Or about her? Or about him? He knew Shelagh well enough, that he knew she would do anything to protect those she loved, even at the expense of herself. He had to talk to her about it, the box that had been living in his pocket for the last week wouldn't allow him to wait any longer.

* * *

Shelagh went to bed that night, after having the normal evening briefing with the girls and a question form Cynthia swirled around her head. Trixie joked that it wouldn't be long before a proposal took place, Shelagh had quickly dismissed that comment, laughing it off with the rest of the girls. When they left Jenny's room, Trixie waltzed off to her room while Cynthia pulled her to one side.

"Shelagh," she started. "I don't know if this is my place, but for the last few weeks we've been talking about you and Doctor Turner, and whenever it gets to the idea of it becoming anything serious you shut down." Shelagh waited for her to continue, not sure if she wanted to hear what was coming next. "No one could doubt how you feel about each other, but I was just wondering." Cynthia paused then, her eyes on Shelagh, almost asking for permission to continue.

"Wondering what?" Shelagh asked.

"Well, if you wanted to marry Doctor Turner, and if so, what is holding you back?"

"He hasn't asked me."

"I would believe that if it were the truth, but I think there's something else there. You don't have to tell me, Shelagh," Cynthia added when Shelagh didn't make any effort to answer, the truth was she didn't know the answer. "It's just something to think about." Cynthia patted her on the arm and walked away.

Now Shelagh was lying in bed, not being able to sleep as her mind just wouldn't shut off. Why did she keep pushing him away? She didn't want to drag him into the gossip surrounding her, although it was a little late for that now. Everything that came into her mind were just excuses, and she knew it. So, what was it?

Before she could think on it any more, she could hear rushing around outside her door and Jenny bust in.

"Shelagh, get dress."

"Jenny? What's wrong?"

"They've found an unexploded bomb. We've got to evacuate. Peter said we need to go to the Leopold institute. They're setting up a refuge centre. Sister Evangelina as gone on already to get things ready." Jenny left her then, running to get the others and help.

Shelagh quickly threw on her nurses' uniform, throwing her hair back into a rough ponytail. All through Nonnatus people were rushing here and there, getting medical supplies ready or extra blankets. Chummy and Peter were by the door, Freddie in his mother's arms, completely oblivious to the chaos around him.

Shelagh thought of Patrick and Timothy, would they need to be relocated to? The Nonnatuns made their way to the Leopold Institute, passing Fred on their way. The girls found this very amusing as the handyman waved crowds of people along. Sweet Fred, Shelagh thought, he couldn't help but be involved in everything.

As the residents poured in, Shelagh kept an eye out. Smiling at anyone who caught her eye. She was at the refreshment stand, helping the civil defence volunteers, when one of her patients came up to her.

"There's no point keeping an eye out, Nurse. Ee' won't be here." She said.

"Pardon?"

"Your doctor. That part of Poplar has been left alone, they're too far away." The woman gave Shelagh a knowing smile and walked away, Shelagh's cheeks burned with embarrassment and she looked round to see if anyone had heard the exchange. If they had, they didn't let on for which Shelagh was glad.

The evening passed in a flurry and soon enough, the children started to become restless as the excitement started to ebb away. Luckily Chummy was on hand, she took the scouts outside to play hockey while she disappeared for about 10 minutes, returned with a beaming smile on her face.  
She made her way straight to Shelagh, weaving through the camp beds spread over the room. "I say," She started, breathing heavily with excitement. "I don't suppose I could borrow you for an hour or so, I have an absolutely spiffing idea that might just give these poor parents a bit of a break."

"Of course," Shelagh replied, always willing to help.

"Marvellous, I've just spoken to Doctor Turner and he has agreed to allow us to borrow his sitting room for the scouts Christmas party. Now, I can't take them on my own and everyone is terribly busy I was wondering if you would come with me?"

"Of course I can, Chummy," Shelagh said sincerely, partly because she wanted to help and partly because it would mean seeing Patrick. The pair went to work, gathering the cubs around and ensuring they had coats and scarfs.

"Right then, is everybody ready?" Chummy asked her cubs.

"Yes!" They cried in unison.

"Wonderful, so nurse Mannion and I are taking you for your Christmas party." The cubs erupted into cheers, cutting Chummy off. She had to blow her whistle to get them to settle down again. "Doctor Turner has very kindly allowed us to use his sitting room, so while we are there I want you all to demonstrate all the traits of the scouts. Understand?"

"Yes, Archala," the scouts replied, and Shelagh beamed at them all.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Patrick was frantically throwing thing here and there. Nurse Noakes would be there any moment with the scouts and he hadn't cleaned in a while. Timothy was following behind him sluggishly.

"Come on, Tim. I need you to work a bit faster please, they'll be here soon." Timothy picked up the pace, helping his father clear up their flat. An activity he had gotten used too since his mother died.

By the time the knock came on the door, father and son were just putting the last few things away. Taking one last look at the now spotless flat, Patrick pulled the handle. On the other side of the door were 12 or so boys, in their pyjamas pushing to be the first one inside out of the cold. He could see Nurse Noakes holding baby Freddie, ushering the boys in, and Shelagh. He did a little double take, Nurse Noakes said she would be asking one of the nurses to accompany her, but not which one.

The boys ran past, followed by Nurse Noakes, calling them to order. Shelagh followed, and Patrick held out his hand to help across the door, she didn't need the help, but he couldn't resist the excuse to hold her.

"Pack, pack, pack," they heard Nurse Noakes call from the living room. Shelagh gave him a small smile and walked towards the sound of the voice, Patrick followed her suddenly very conscious of the mess his hair and suit were. "Right pack, thank you," Nurse Noakes said as the boys settled down. Patrick could see Timothy sitting next to Jack Smith, looking at the baby in the boy's arms. Freddie was smiling at the boys and waving his little arms at anyone who looked at him. "Our Christmas party is about to begin. Doctor Turner when can we put our little snacks?" Nurse Noakes gestured to Shelagh, who was holding a small bag he hadn't noticed.

"Through here," Patrick replied.

He lead Shelagh to his small kitchen, standing back as she unloaded the small number of snacks they had brought for the cubs.

"Are there any plates, Doctor? Just to put the food on."

"Of course," Patrick replied, he got out a few plates from the cupboard. White with blue flowers around the rim, they were Catherine's, the ones she brought when they had gotten married.

"These are lovely," Shelagh commented.

"They were my wife's favourite."

"Oh, Doctor Turner, we couldn't possibly use them. What if they break?" Shelagh started handing them back to him, but he just pushed them away.

"Please, she would be delighted that _you_ were using them," he said. If he knew anything it was that his late wife would absolutely adore this little Scottish woman who had stolen his heart. He could still remember their last conversation.

Catherine was then at the London, the illness that had plagued her for two years now too intense for her to continue at home. The night before she passed, he was visiting her. Timothy, who was still a little young to understand what was going on, was staying with his grandmother.

"Don't be sad for too long, Patrick," she said to him. "A little while is alright, but not too long. Timmy needs you. Let yourself be happy again."

"Cathy," Patrick tried to stop her, he couldn't even think about losing her, even though every part of his medical training told him it wouldn't be long.

"I'm so thankful for the time we had, I wouldn't trade it for anything. Don't close your heart my dear. Let yourself love and, when the time comes, be loved back. "

"I don't think I can," Patrick said, tears clogging his throat. "You're the only one I want."

"Now, maybe. But someday, someone else will come along and she will make you happy. She will love you, and Timmy, and I will look down and be happy for you both." She brushed his hand with a gentle kiss. When Patrick went back the next day, she was gone.

Now, two years later, he was looking a Shelagh marvelling at how right Catherine was. She did always know best.

"Dad," Timothy called him, "Archala wants to know where our record player is, we're going to play musical chairs."

"I'll get it for her now, can you help Nurse Mannion put the food out?"

As was becoming the norm when he left, Shelagh felt relief and sadness. She smiled at the little boy in front of her and together they put the food out.

"My mum used to do this with me," he commented.

"Did she? You must miss her." Timothy only nodded. "I miss mine too, she died when I was very little."

"Did she?"

"Yes."

"Was you dad really sad, like mine?" Timothy asked.

"Yes, but he was strong, like your dad and we got through it. But we still missed her every day." They worked in silence for a time, each with their own thoughts until Timothy broke it with a bold statement.

"My dad likes you."

"Does he?"

"Yes," Timothy said, now focusing all his attention on her, the half full plate of cupcakes forgotten next to him.

"And what do you think about that?" Shelagh asked carefully. She was not going to push where she was not wanted, no matter how much she wanted to be there.

"I think it would be smashing."

"You do?" She asked, surprised. She knew Timothy liked her but had no idea he would be so keen on her and his father.

"Yes, you could come here, look after my dad and be my mum."

"And, would you like that?" Her heart sored at the love she saw in the boys' eyes, it wasn't just she and Patrick involved here, it was Timothy as well and she did not want to do anything to hurt him.

"Yes, I can't have my real mum, and you would be a great one. Plus, you cook better than dad." Shelagh couldn't help herself, she pulled the boy into her arms and hugged him fiercely, tears gathering when he hugged her back. "So, will you stay?"

Shelagh pulled away a little, not sure how to answer him.

"Timothy, it's not a simple as that," she started.

"Do you not want to?"

"It's not that. It's… complicated."

"Do you not like my dad?" She smiled softly at him.

"I like him very much."

"Do you not like me?" He looked so hurt and vulnerable that Shelagh's heart broke.

"I love you very much, Timothy Turner, never doubt that."

"They why is it complicated?" Timothy asked, with the logic only a child could manage. "If you like him, and he likes you and I like you both, then why can't you stay?" He looked up to her with so much hope in his eyes, pleading with her. Shelagh felt like she held his entire world in her hand, just one word and it could come crashing down.

Before she could form an answer, he was called into the next room. The games were about to start.

* * *

At the end of the party, the boys were gathered in the hall waiting for Patrick." Right, lads," he said, putting his hat and scarf on. "One sweet each and we'll head back. And, if you're all good, we might even take a detour back passed the bomb sight." This comment was met with cheers from the boys, Patrick grinned at their enthusiasm and walked out into the cold. Shelagh watched them go, she had offered to stay and clean up while Patrick walked them all home. She was hoping it would give her time to finish her conversation with Timothy, she couldn't stand the thought that he thought she was rejecting him.

They cleaned in silence, Shelagh not sure if she should broach the subject again. Once the flat was cleaned, Timothy disappeared to his room. Shelagh, unsure what to do, settled down on the sofa with a copy of the Lancet she found on the table. She waited for an hour but neither Timothy nor Patrick made and appearance. She was about to go and check on the boy when she heard a thump form the next room,

"Timothy?" She called. There was no response and she walked into his room. She found him lying on the floor. He had been sick, and she could see a glass of juice that had been knocked over.

"Timothy!" she cried, running to him. She placed her hand on his forehead, his temperature was spiking. "Timothy? Wake up." He didn't move, didn't even open his eyes and Shelagh's heart plummet. "Timothy, dearest. Can you sit up for me? Timothy. I need you to sit up," she cried desperately. "Come on. Stir your stumps."

"Can't." His voice was so weak, she could feel her eyes fill with tears, but she wouldn't let them flow. He will be alright, he's going to be alright.

"Timothy, can you wiggle you toes?" Nothing happened, Oh God, please! She prayed. "I'll be back in just a moment." Shelagh rang from the room, she frantically dialled the number for the emergency services and was practically jumping with impatience as it rang.

"Fire, police and ambulance. Which service do you require?"


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Patrick was growing more and more frustrated, did these people not know just how serious polio can be. It could have only been a few moments since they arrived back at the rescue centre before Jack Smith threw up all over the floor. The nurses got him isolated and, since he was already there, Patrick offered to have a look at him. It didn't take long for the Doctor to realise that this wasn't just any other illness, the poor boy had polio.

It didn't seem too serious, and Patrick was hopeful that the London would be able to help him before it got worse. It had been about an hour since the ambulance had left and he had been stuck on the phone, trying to convince the medical board to bring all the vaccinations forward.

"Doctor Turner," Sister Julienne came running towards him. Her face was set in a grim line.

"What is it, Sister?" Was someone else infected?

"Doctor Turner, Shelagh has been trying to reach you."

"What's wrong, is she ok?"

"It's not her, its Timothy." Patrick dropped the phone in his hands, Timothy?

"What's happened?"

"He's at the London, Shelagh was waiting for you to get back when she heard him collapse. She thinks it might be polio." He didn't even let her finish the sentence, her ran out the door, grabbing his coat on his way.

When he arrived at the London, he ran through the corridors. Desperately trying to find the children's ward. He rounded a corner and saw Shelagh.

Her eyes were red, and tears were streaming down her face, he ran to her and took the hand she held out for him.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He looked to the doors and left her, rushing in. The sight of his son, lying in a breathing machine stopped him in his tracks.

"Are you the father?" A bossy looking nurse asked, Patrick only nodded. "He's not able to breath on his own, the machine is doing it for him."

"I understand, I'm also his GP," Patrick replied, never taking his eyes of Timothy's face. Patrick didn't need to say that he too was finding it hard to breath. He looked so small.

"Oh yes, you brought the other boy in."

"Jack Smith?"

"Polio, mild dose. He's out of bed and giving cheek." The nurse smiled at him, if she was trying to be reassuring, it wasn't working. Patrick bent over his sons' head, gently stroking his hair.

"Timothy," he called. "Timothy!".

"I suggest we take it one hour at a time. He may recover the ability to breathe. Respiration is not always permanently impaired."

"I know that," he interrupted. "I know all the facts, but just now they're no help to me at all." He placed his forehead on Timothy's, his entire body shaking with tears. How could this happen? First Catherine, then Shelagh, now Timothy. How much more can he take?

Shelagh watched him from the door. How did she not notice? She was a nurse, she should have seen that Timothy was ill. Now she might lose him, she couldn't lose him. He was her little boy, losing a child is a pain no mother should feel. She may not be Timothy's biological mother, but she loved like one non-the less.

Almost like a trance, she walked away. Tears staining her face and she did nothing to stop them. It wasn't until she was in the doorway, did she realise she was back at the rescue centre. The sisters were singing, she could hear their voice and the familiar feeling came back to her.

In Thee, O Lord, do I put my trust  
Let me never be ashamed  
Deliver me in Thy righteousness  
Into Thy hands I commend my spirit  
Thou hast redeemed me  
O Lord God of truth.

The Sisters had always told her that she was welcome to join them in compline, but she never felt comfortable with that. Ever since she left the order, even though she was living in the same roof, she hadn't really spent much time with the Sisters. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had rejected them.

But, at that moment, when everything seemed to be crashing down around her, she wanted nothing more than to fly into the loving arms of her Lord and Sisters. She gently walked into the room, her voice melding with those of the sisters.

Bow down Thine ear to me  
Deliver me speedily  
Be Thou my strong rock  
For an house of defence to save me  
For Thou art my rock  
and my fortress

They did nothing to suggest they heard her, except for a slight shift in their position, opening a space for her next to Sister Julienne. The older woman reached out for her, and they stood there; singing the words they knew so well, hearts bursting with love, hope and prayer.

O most loving God  
Therefore, for Thy name's sake  
Lead me and guide me  
Pull me out of the net  
that they have laid privily for me  
For Thou art my strength  
Make Thine face to shine upon me  
In my hour of need

The tears that had stemmed on her way to the centre, started flowing again. When they had finished, Sister Monica Joan and Evangelina left quietly, leaving the young woman with Sister Julienne who pulled her into her arms, holding her like she did many months before.

Shelagh nestled her head into the crook of Sister Julienne's neck, her tears wetting the Sisters prayer veil. When she had composed herself a little, Sister Julienne lead her away to a small room. In there was a cot and some blankets.

"We made this up for you, stay and get some rest. You can go back to the hospital in the morning," Sister Julienne said.

"How did you…"

"We hoped you would come to us tonight, and I am so glad that you did."

"Are you?" Shelagh asked, never daring to hope.

"Did you believe for one moment that we wouldn't want you here tonight? That we wouldn't welcome you with open arms?"

"I turned my back on you, Sister.," Shelagh said through her tears, hanging her head with the shame she felt. "I walked away. I became someone else."

"No, you didn't, Shelagh," Sister Julienne said, placing her hand gently on the young woman's cheek.

"You found joy. And I've never questioned it."

"There is no joy now," Shelagh cried again, pushing her hand to her mouth in an ill-fated attempt at stopping it.

"But there is love, and it's Christmas," Sister Julienne said, pulling her in. She stroked her hair, calming her like she used too. "Have courage."

"I tried to keep my distance," Shelagh said, her voice muffled by Sister Julienne's prayer vail. "Tried to push my feelings down, at least until most of the gossip had died down."

"Is that what you really wanted," Sister Julienne asked. Shelagh pulled away and sat down on the cot.

"I don't know, all I knew is I couldn't quiet face the fact that this was happening, that this was my life now. And now it's not and I feel like my heart is breaking."

"Shelagh," Sister Julienne said, softly. Sitting next to her and taking her hands. "You love each other, no one can doubt that, and you have done nothing to be ashamed off. Don't stop yourself from being happy for the sake of a few small-minded people. Those who love you and know you, know that you have done nothing to be ashamed off, and that is what matters." Shelagh looked up at the woman who had been more mother than sister to her, seeing the approval in her eyes was enough to calm all her fears. The fact that Sister Julienne approves of her relationship with Patrick and Timothy, of the life she has chosen, cleared everything up for her.

Timothy was right, why is it complicated? They love each other, that is all that matters.

* * *

Patrick sat at his sons side all night, there was no change but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. He had never felt so alone. When Catherine passed he had Timothy, his light in the darkness. Timothy kept him going, kept him smiling when all he wanted to do was crawl in a dark corner and stay there. Now he might lose him, how can he handle it?

Before he could fall further down, she walked in. She had the same effect Timothy had before, she brought light in when darkness was closing around him. She walked straight to him, eyes flicking between father and son. He held out his hand, wanting nothing more than to hold her, not expecting to get the chance. She took it and pulled it to her lips. Kissing him like he had kissed her before.

When her lips touched his hand, it was like everything fell into place, everything will be ok now with Shelagh by his side. He stood and pulled her into his arms, marvelling at how well she fit there.

"I love you," she said softly, he almost thought he had imagined it. Pulling away slightly, he looked into her eyes searching for anything that would confirm what he thought, hoped. It wasn't necessary, it was written all over her face. "I love you Patrick Turner and I'm sorry it took so long for me to say it. I was so afraid, but I'm not now. Timothy was right," she looked to the little boy next to them, her face radiating with love. "It not complicated."

She placed her hand on his forehead and bent to kiss him. Patrick watch her, no one had treated his son this way since Catherine died and he knew that when Shelagh said she loved him, it wasn't just him. She loved them both. Patrick got her a chair and they sat in silence, Shelagh stroking Timothy's hair and Patrick watching for anything that could suggest a change in condition.

* * *

All day the nurses move around them, patients came and went, as did visitors, still the pair didn't more. Shelagh's hair was coming out of the bun she had placed it in and Patricks tie was now undone around his neck, Timothy's eyes flicked open but neither adult noticed. It wasn't until his soft, dry voice squeezed out one word: "Brylcreem."

"Brylcreem?"

"Fetch the nurse," Patrick said, his face splitting into a smile as he placed his hand gently on his sons' hair. The nurse came over, followed by the doctor. Patrick move out of the way as they examined Timothy, Shelagh tucked under his arm, her own was wrapped around his waist.

"Doctor Turner," the nurse said, turning to the couple. "Doctor thinks we can take Timothy out of the machine, he's breathing is steady and does not need help. If you two would wait outside, we'll get him comfortable." Patrick was about to protest, but Shelagh pulled him out.

"Shelagh, I don't want to leave him."

"I know Patrick, but there's nothing you can do at the moment. You'll only be in the way. Go, freshen up. You look exhausted."

"What did I do to deserve you?" He pulled her against his chest, still not quiet believing that this young woman would choose him, would love him.

"Probably the same thing I did to deserve you, and Timothy." He looked at her curiously. "Nothing. We don't do anything to deserve love Patrick, it's given freely and demands nothing in return."

"I love you, Shelagh." He kissed her, not caring if anyone was watching, not caring that they weren't alone or in the middle of a hospital, he just wanted to hold her and show her just how much he meant it.

Timothy was lying in bed when they were allowed back in, the curtains drawn around him for privacy. Patrick lifted him up, lying him across his lap like he did when he was a child, Shelagh took his legs and sat beside him. They weren't a normal family, but Patrick wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

"Am I breathing, Dad?" Timothy asked.

"Yes, Son," Patrick replied, looking at Shelagh.

"Yes, you are," she said. Holding onto Timothy's hand. The small boy smiled at them.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Shelagh and Patrick visited the hospital every day, it was only when the nurses kicked them out did they leave. Whenever they came, Shelagh would fuss over him, his father would chuckle at this and read to him. Timothy would groan when she did, but deep down he didn't mind. It had been so long since he had someone who treated him like this, like a mother would and Timothy Turner was finding that he liked it more and more every day.

One day, his father came on his own. Timothy was slightly disappointed not to see Shelagh but happy for the time they could have alone.

"Not long now, Tim," he said. "You'll be home tomorrow. I've got it all sorted and tidy for you." He kissed his forehead. "And we'll have a wonderful home cooked meal."

"Are you cooking?" Timothy asked, apprehensively.

"What would be wrong with that?"

"Nothing," Timothy said quickly, not wanting to hurt his feelings.

"Shelagh will cook, don't worry." Patrick laughed at him and settled back into his chair. "Tim, I wanted to ask you a question. What do you think about Shelagh?"

"She nice, and funny and a better cook than you." The pair laughed at that, but Patricks was cut short.

"I'm glad you like her, because, well I was hoping you wold help me with something. If you were happy with it that is?"

"Are you going to ask her to marry you?" Timothy asked, Patrick was surprised at just how much his son noticed. Not that he should be; Timothy had always been more mature than most of the boys his age, the result in growing up without his mother. Patrick hated the fact that he had missed out on a lot of his childhood.

"Well, yes. What do you think?" Patrick had been waiting to have this conversation for weeks, there was no way, despite how much he loved her, Patrick would never ask her if Timothy said no. If Patrick was to marry again, it had to be with someone they both wanted or no one at all.

"I think," Timothy started, and Patrick subconsciously held his breath. "That would be good." Patrick let out a shaky breath, grinning at his son. "Here," Timothy said, handing Patrick a folded-up piece of paper. "I drew something earlier, it's for Shelagh. I didn't know if you would ask her, so I thought I'd do it for you." He grinned sheepishly.

"Thank you, Tim. What do you think, shall we give it to her tomorrow?"

"No, you can't ask her when I'm there."

"Why not?" Patrick asked.

"I heard Nurse Trixie and Nurse Jenny talking about it. Nurse Trixie said it should be special and romantic and you can't do romantic if I'm there. I _really_ don't want to see that." Patrick laughed at his son, he may be mature for his age, but he was glad to see that he was still a boy and the idea of boys and girls and romance was still disgusting to him.

"Alright then."

* * *

Timothy had now been home for two months and Patrick still hadn't asked Shelagh to marry him. They both had been extremely busy, Shelagh out at all hours delivering babies and the surgery had been busier than ever. Then, when they weren't working, they would be looking after Timothy.

Shelagh was getting a bit over protective and would worry if he was left alone for too long. Patrick not too much, as long as he stayed close to home, the surgery or Nonnatus house. He wanted to make sure he had somewhere to go if he got tired.

"Please?" Timothy asked one night.

"No, Timothy," Shelagh said. "You can't keep up with the other boys."

"They'll slow down for me," Timothy replied, attitude lacing his words. Patrick gave his son a stern look, Shelagh only shook her head.

"I have a day off tomorrow," she said moving the conversation on. "I though we could go to the museum?"

"Oh, I can't wait," the little boy said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Shelagh turned her back, so Patrick couldn't see how his son's words affected her and, when she walked to the kitchen, her rounded on his son.

"Behave yourself, Tim." He knew that the boy was restless, and that Shelagh was taking this a little too far, but it didn't excuse his son's rudeness. "Why don't you go upstairs and start on your homework?" Timothy shrugged his shoulders and stalked away.

After he left the room, Patrick went to check on Shelagh. To his surprise, she was stifling laughter.

"I'm sorry," she said through the tea towel pressed to her mouth. "I know he was rude, but it was just so nice."

"Nice?" Patrick asked, puzzled.

"Yes, they way he spoke to me was just how I used to speak to my mother when I was annoyed. It's just nice that he feels comfortable enough to not be perfect all the time." Patrick smiled at her, he walked over and pulled her into his arms. Never tiering of the feel of her body against his.

"He has got a point." Shelagh pulled away from him, confusion written all over her face. "He should be out there with his friends."

"No," she said, cutting off anything else he would have just said and pulling away from him completely. "He can't, he'll get too tired and…"

"Shelagh, he's an 11-year-old boy, you need to leave him to his own devises."

"We both left him to his own devises, if you remember, the day he fell ill." Shelagh had risen her voice at that point, her face flushing with anger.

Patrick stood silent for a moment, shock and hurt before he retorted with; "I don't deserve that, and neither do you."

He watched as she crumbled before him, eyes brimming with tears. Not, he realised from hurt, but fear. He knew the exact reason Shelagh kept Timothy so close to home, why she was so insistent that he didn't go anywhere without one of them. How could he not when he felt the same way?

Patrick pulled her back into his arms and let her cry against his chest. Once she had calmed he spoke, lips pressing against her hair. "I know you're worried, sweetheart, I am too, but we need to let him fly. We can't keep him with us forever."

The pair stood like that until they heard Timothy coming back.

The day after, Patrick drove to Nonnatus thinking over everything that had happened over the last few months. He couldn't believe just how much his life had changed in such a small span of time.

When he arrived at the convent he saw his son running around outside with a few boys from school. They were playing cricket and, just as Timothy said, the boys had slowed down for him. Watching his son run and play like he should be filled Patrick with hope for the future. They had grown closer these last couple of months, but there was still something missing, and that something was currently in the building next to him.

Making up his mind, he walked up the steps. Sister Julienne was the one to answer the door and, with one look she stepped out the way.

"She's in the kitchen." Patrick smiled at the nun, still not entirely sure what she thought about his feelings for Shelagh.

"Sister," Patrick made himself stop walking, knowing he couldn't ask the question without first speaking with Sister Julienne. "I was wondering if I might have a word?"

"Of course." She lead him to her office and sat at her desk, Patrick couldn't shake the feeling like he was small boy called to the headmistresses' office. He took a seat opposite her, clenching his hands together.

"Sister, I wanted to speak to you about something. Shelagh and I, well I was hoping." Patrick took a shaky breath, suddenly very nervous. "Shelagh loves you very much, more than anyone I'd guess. Except maybe- "

"You and Timothy?" Patrick gave her a shy smile, thinking it might be a bit conceited if he said yes. "Doctor Turner, are you here to tell me that you want to marry my Shelagh?"

"I was going to ask her, Sister, but not without your blessing. I, and I know Shelagh would feel the same, wouldn't want to do anything without your blessing."

"I'm assuming you've spoken to Timothy about this."

"Yes, he is very happy about it."

"In that case, Doctor Turner," Sister Julienne started, her face not giving anything away. "You do not need my blessing. Shelagh doesn't belong to me, or any one. You need her blessing and your sons. Which you have." Sister Julienne stood then, and Patrick understood that she would not get in their way but would not be happy about it. "But," she continued. "If you need my blessing, Doctor, you have it with my love as well. I could not part with her for anyone else."

He couldn't help himself, Patrick hugged the woman out of pure joy.

"Go, Doctor Turner, ask her and save us all this suspense."

Trixie walked down the stairs, she was about to head outside, hoping to see if Fred had fixed her bike for that evening, when she saw Doctor Turner leave Sister Julienne's office. Curious, she followed him and watched as he walked into the kitchen. Sister Evangelina was about to walk in when Trixie stopped her, with a finger to her lips, she tiptoed to the door.

"Nurse Franklin," Sister Evangelina said, too loud.

"Shh, Doctor Turner's just left Sister Julienne's office."

"So?" Sister Evangelina asked, not noticing that she too started whispering.

"So! He's just gone into the kitchen and, last I knew, Shelagh was in there." She gave the sister a knowing smile, which was returned. The pair fell silent then, trying to hear what was going on. They were joined soon by Jenny and Cynthia, who were practically pulled to the side when they tried to enter the kitchen. Both Sister Evangelina and Trixie put fingers to their lips and they listened.

"Sister Julienne said I would find you here," Patrick said. Shelagh dropped the plate she was cleaning, splashing the sides with soapy water. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's quite alright," Shelagh replied, he checks burning with embarrassment. "Timothy is outside."

"Yes, I saw him. It's good to see him playing with his friends."

"Yes, well, as you said, he's an 11-year-old boy. I should stop mothering him and let him alone."

"What if I don't want you to stop mothering him?" Patrick asked, he was close now, she could feel his chest against her back. He reached around her and took the dish and cloth form her hand. She let them go, gripping the counter. Her stomach churning with excitement and a little fear.

"I have something for you," he said in her ear and turned her around to face him. He gently ran his finger down her cheek and she sighed softly. "Here."

Shelagh looked down and saw that he was holding out a box wrapped in a piece of paper. She was about to take it, when she realised that her hands were still wet from washing the dishes. She giggled and pushed away from him, grabbing the first tea towel she could find to dry them.  
Was it really happening?

She looked at Patrick and knew what was going to happen, and he knew what she was going to say. It was their way, communicating without words. For so long they couldn't speak of what they felt that it became second nature to do it in a glance.

She went on tiptoes and kissed him softly, she got her question and he got his answer in that small, simple gesture.

"You're supposed to open the box." He said quietly, their lips still touching.

"You're supposed to be on one knee," she said, just as quietly.

She took the box from him and opened it. Written on the other side of the paper, in Timothy's slightly disjointed handwriting was a note.

"Please will you marry my dad?" She read aloud, looking that the man in front of her with her heart in her eyes.

Trixie squealed from outside the door and was hushed by the others, less the couple found out they were there.

Patrick and Shelagh didn't notice, they were gazing at each other with all the love they felt in their hearts. Patrick reached out and took the box, opening it to show her a small, perfect, diamond ring. Shelagh held out her hand, and he slipped it on her ring finger. Without saying a word, Patrick bent his head and kissed it. He looked up and she smiled, was he ever going to get used to that sight? He bent his head again, but this time he captured her lips.

Unable to take it anymore, Trixie called out; "Are you too finished yet, we're positively dying out here!" The nurses and Sister Evangelina burst in then, breaking the couple apart. Shelagh was horrified to be caught kissing a man by her former Sister, but Sister Evangelina only smiled.

"I hope this means, Doctor Turner," she said to the man before, trying to be as stern as she can. "That you have finally decided to ask the question we have all be waiting for?" Neither Shelagh nor Patrick said anything, but they didn't need too. The nurses screamed in delight and threw their arms around the newly engaged couple.

In the midst of the chaos, between arms that surrounded her, Shelagh saw Sister Julienne standing by the door. Around them people were talking, passing out glasses for, as Trixie says, 'an absolutely necessary spot of champagne.' The two smiled at each other with tears in their eyes.

*A/N: Sorry it took so long for this update. Hope you enjoyed it. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. If I haven't responded yet, I will soon. Please keep reviewing, you know I love them.


	9. Chapter 9

**So, I've been looking through my fics and saw this one. I've had the ending saved for ages but haven't posted it. It's not long, just a fluffy end to the story I hope you all enjoyed. I have one other story I've started to post up (Never Again - a Bones fic if you like that program) and starting on a new one involving everyone's favourite doctor and nurse.**

Chapter 9

Shelagh was knelt in a small room at the back of the church, Sister Julienne was stood before her blessing her for the day that was about to come. Sister Evangelina and Monica Joan were stood to the side, both with tears falling down their face.

When Shelagh stood, Sister Evangelina helped her rearrange the dress, brushing out any wrinkle that may have been made. Sister Monica Joan took Shelagh's hands in her withered ones.

"Be, as thy presence is, gracious and kind,  
Or to thyself at least kind-hearted prove:  
Make thee another self, for love of me,  
That beauty still may live in thine or thee."

Shelagh kissed the beloved Sister's cheek, gaining a small pat on her own. The Sisters left Shelagh with Sister Julienne, who was smiling softly.

"You look beautiful, my dear," Sister Julienne said, taking Shelagh's cheek in her hand. "I am so proud of you."

"Thank you, Sister. I don't know how I could have done this without you."

"You could have, Shelagh. You are stronger than you think, braver than you know and loved more than you believe. And today will show you." A knock on the door interrupted any replied Shelagh may have made.

Trixie popped her head round, "Are you ready?" Shelagh nodded and turned to Sister Julienne.

"You should be giving me away. You should be walking with me."

"You belong to no-one but yourself. And you know exactly where you're going." With that, Sister Julienne kissed her cheek and left. Shelagh was left alone then, taking a steady breath. She had heard so many brides say how nervous they were on their wedding day, but Shelagh didn't feel anything but excitement. This day had been so long in coming, she had been ready long before the ring was even put on her finger. Today she would finally be starting the life she was supposed to be leading.

Today she started as Shelagh Mannion, former nun but will end as Shelagh Turner, wife, mother and nurse. What she has wanted and longed for, for as long as she can remember.

Trixie opened the door, wearing a baby pink bridesmaid dress and a smile almost as bright.

"Ready?"

She stood back and let Shelagh pass. Shelagh looked down the aisle, there, right at the front were the two people she loved most in the world. The music started, and she made her way to them.

Patrick turned to watch her, she was a vison. He always thought she was beautiful, but here, in a white dress and looking at him with love, she was more beautiful than ever. When he took her hand, he knew all would be well. He could face anything, as long as she's still there.


End file.
